


Part IV

by VeronikaLP



Series: You're In a Car With a Beautiful Boy [4]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Some fluff after all that angst, We're almost done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 04:06:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1252174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeronikaLP/pseuds/VeronikaLP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and you won't tell him that you've loved him since day one, but you love him, with every beat of your heart..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Part IV

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, I can't believe I'm down to four parts of this thing that started only as a random drabble while I listened to Bleeding Love by Leona Lewis on a particularly fluffy day, but here we are and I'm extremely happy about it.  
> Thank you for your kudos and comments. They have truly made my day and pushed me forward to finish this.  
> Only one more part will come out of it to wrap it all up nicely, even though I suck at wrapping gifts and making ribbon bows.  
> As all the previous work done in this verse, this was inspired by Richard Siken.  
> It is unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine and mine only.  
> I obviously don't own them, because if I did, they would've already made their love canon, so, let's keep this tiny piece of fiction between you and I, yeah?  
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you won’t tell him that you love him, _~~because you’re giving yourself space because you’re keeping your distance in order to keep your sanity because he doesn’t want to hear it~~_ , but you do.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, all blonde hair and bright eyes.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, all happy and carefree, bubbling with energy as he jumps up and down on his seat.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and it’s still surreal that you’re an uncle, but you smile at him nonetheless, because there’s no cuter kid in this world.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy who’s marveled by the world surrounding him, and you smile at that too, because you felt the same the first time you set foot in another country.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, itch no longer in the back of your head but present throughout your body, anxiety and nerves prickling under your skin.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, along with your parents, your bother, and his wife, and there was no need for all of them to be here, but that’s just how your family is.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and then it’s a white and sterile room, cold air conditioning creeping up to every curve, leaving goose bumps behind. You instinctively close your legs, arms crossed over your chest, right foot tapping against the stretcher rail.

You’re not in a car with a beautiful boy, and Liam calls first _~~of course~~_ wishing you his best. Louis comes in second, havoc of his sisters’ voices in the background. Your smile only gets wider when they shout ‘good luck’ while wrestling Louis for the phone. The call ends abruptly, but you don’t stop smiling. Harry sends you a text _~~because he texts everything~~_ in his usual quirky manner. _’Nialler! Best of luck, mate! xxxxxxx May all of those land on your knee without messing up your stitches’._

You’re not in a car with a beautiful boy, but you reply _‘Harold! Hazza, Haz Haz! Thank you, but this won’t get you out of the pool day you owe me with Alexa Chung’_. _‘Awwwwwwwwwww. You jealous, babe? Don’t be. You know you’re my only one’._ You’re not in a car with that beautiful boy who a couple of minutes later adds, _‘Don’t tell Louis I said that’._

You’re not in a car with that beautiful boy, but you laugh and laugh and laugh, sending a _‘Keep an eye on your man’_ to Louis, just to distract yourself while time passes by.

You’re not in a car with a beautiful boy when the reply comes in form of _‘Why? Did he tell you anything? I told him not to touch you unless you agreed to the threesome’_.

You’re not in a car with a beautiful boy, but you laugh harder and shake your head in vain hope that it pulls down the obvious blush creeping up your face.

You’re not in a car with a beautiful boy, but times keeps on ticking, and then you’re being hooked into an IV line. You tell your mom to stop fidgeting because there’s nothing to worry about, but deep down you feel the same, erratic beating of your heart playing an uneven rhythm on your ribs.

You’re not in a car with a beautiful boy, and you keep telling yourself that you’re not expecting it, that it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t arrive, that he’s probably too busy anyways, long forgotten about this event in your life, but you come in terms it’s all a lie when, while you’re being sit on a wheelchair to head to the OR, your phone vibrates, and a single text crumbles your walls.

You’re not in a car with the beautiful boy who sent _‘Best of luck today, Ni :) xx’_.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he’s as handsome as ever, hair recently cut in a faux mohawk and that chiseled jaw covered in a scruff that you’d love to feel on the inside of your thighs. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy who’s leaning forward to kiss your lips, and the press of his mouth against yours doesn’t last half a second. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and then it’s not his face hovering over you but a nurse’s, asking you to wake up, saying the surgery was a success, and that you’ll feel out of it for a while. A while ends up being a few hours between recovery and your official discharge.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, still feeling dazed and unsteady, wondering what it’ll feel like when the painkillers wear off and the real pain begins. He’s got his hand wrapped around two of your fingers, head resting on your thigh.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and it’s been two weeks since your surgery. The pain subdues and then hits full on at times, never truly fading, but you’re not expecting it to, because the doctor said as much. Today is your first time out, and it feels great to breathe some fresh air.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he has been a friend since forever, and your favorite soccer team won, so it’s a really good day.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, several of them, and they’re singing silly songs loudly, moving around but always careful with your knee, and it feels good to be back home, one of the many you have.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and then you’re in a bar, shouting and cheering, and the meds are not in your system tonight because it’s pint night with the boys.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, hungover and struggling with a headache, but still smiling wide as you meet more of them; hear about their stories, all that you missed while you were away.  You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you feel like your old self again, loud and carefree, not so wrapped up in your head.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and tonight they’re staying over at your place, with a barbecue and pints, because that’s the only proper way to go on a movie night.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he goes with you to church to pray and reconnect with your roots.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he’s helping you practice Gaelic because it’s about time you do honor to your heritage.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he’s as sad to see you leave as you are, but after family and friends time, you need to go back to that place in London and make it feel like a home again. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy because you’re not going back there without making a few stops first, and _~~since you’re already considering everyone beautiful like he does~~_ it only makes sense you stop at Cheshire first. You hop inside the shop and take in the sight, a mop of curls trapped under a navy beanie and a striped apron wrapped in the front. His emerald eyes take sight of you, and he’s yelling _‘Nialler!’_ , and before you notice you’re being trapped in a bone-crushing hug.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and everything is green here, green and quiet, unlike Mullingar. You go to the shop with him in the morning and hang out in the afternoon, talk about everything and nothing at once; how both of you slept for countless hours the first few days, making up for lost sleep in exchange of hard work. He even recalls a time his mom came into his room at 6 pm on the third day and poked him with a stick to make sure he was still alive. You picture it so clearly, tears start rolling down your face by how hard you laugh.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re in Doncaster now, watching how blue eyes are absolutely mesmerized by the tiny boy held in his arms, and the green ones next to you are completely smitten at the sight. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and there are kids that rival your nephew in the cute department, specially recently born and soft and fragile like this one, but they still don’t win over him.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, Wolverhampton sight bared in front of you. Liam talks about break, exercise, writing, a trip to the beach, and more. He only names him once, referring to his birthday party and your obvious absence from it, but doesn’t push further or asks about your motives for not going; he knows them by heart. He takes you to a Wanderers game and to Sophia’s house, and watching them interact with each other makes you think back of Louis and Harry and twin babies held in their arms. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you wish for all of them the most that they can have.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and it feels good to settle down, reach your final destination, and look back through the past months to discover this contentedness in your chest, having replaced the burning wave that settled in it for days and weeks and endless nights.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and the trial for how true this new feeling is, comes when you reach the floor to your flat and watch a figure standing at your door.

You’re not in a car with a beautiful boy, but you’re not burning either, you’re struggling to keep your heart from flying out of your body, carried by the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You’re not in a car with a beautiful boy, and you feel seventeen all over again, at a loss for words and with sweaty palms.

You’re not in a car with a beautiful boy, and he’s wrecking you all over again like he did all those years ago, and you think about Bleeding Love and Yellow and endless moments shared in cars.

You’re not in a car with a beautiful boy, and there’s a suitcase placed next to him as he turns around and gives you that smile, the one reserved just for you, the very first one you ever learned to categorize about him.

You’re not in a car with a beautiful boy, and his accent does a funny thing to your heart when he smiles a soft _‘Hey, Ni. Haven’t seen you in a while’._

You’re not in a car with a beautiful boy, and while your love for him dimmed and stayed away in a corner of your heart while you found yourself again, it comes back full force and knocks the air out of your lungs.

You’re not in a car with a beautiful boy, and you don’t know if you’re allowed to be in love with him, but you still are.

You’re not in a car with a beautiful boy, and you won’t tell him that you love him _~~always have, with every cell in your body and every beat of your heart~~_ , but you do. 

 


End file.
